Comfortably afraid of the touch of dawn,
I cover myself in sand.
The warmth from a day’s fight to survive turns the sand into dirt.
Hurt.
Pain.
Through my suffocation brings clouds of desperation.
One last gasp strikes like lightning.
Selfless
Pain.
My failure has turned into the rain.
I am far from the surface of a feeling, but close enough to hear a whisper…
“Defeat”
The rain and the dirt meet.
My skin becomes mud.
Inspired by not knowing my own demise, I fight for a grip.
Anguish.
Control.
The touch of dawn greets me as a friend not forgotten.
With hurt and frustration dripping from my skin, I walk into the breath of the day.
Only to be stopped by a whisper from the pain I had just left behind.
I turn towards the whisper.
Only to find footprints in the puddle of my despair.